


stardust to remember you by

by navysealdeathstare (machogwapito)



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Character Study, First Kiss, First Time, Insecurity, M/M, except not really?????, first everything tbqh, i hope this has at least some semblance of plot, steve/max makes me wax poetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 22:32:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/machogwapito/pseuds/navysealdeathstare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, it isn't Max who's out of his league. And Steve knows it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stardust to remember you by

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt-based: Steve/Max, Steve is the one insecure about their relationship.
> 
> Gift for [SakuraGirl25](http://fanfiction.net/~SakuraGirl25) on FanFiction.Net. Also un-beta'd like hell. Also it is 5:25 in the morning right now.

The first time Steve kisses Max, the first thought in his mind is that he is beautiful. Max is so beautiful. And even though the glasses make it awkward and Max's general inability to really understand anything affectionate beyond holding hands is an impending factor, it makes him smile, anyway. Because a few moments later, Max kisses back.

Max has the chittering words of a bird and a matching energy, and when he sees Steve he chirps hellos and facts about whales, sneakers squeaking across polished floors as he gestures through the air like he owns it, even if he doesn't; but he does own Steve. His eyes are the bright fireworks of the fourth of July, his skin stained by the heat of the sun, his entire frame a swathe of open sky. If Steve took him away for himself, he'd own a universe--swirling, tumbling, twisting atmosphere; twinkling stars and breathtaking scenery, planets aligned in beautiful synchronized gravity. Max is the universe of cheer, of good will, of a man who does good and only good, and though he works with dead bodies, he gives life to Steve's veins like Steve deserves it. Perhaps even more miraculously, he makes him believe that he does.

He kisses him one more time, and then he says goodbye. Max's fingers touch his lips in awe while Steve leaves the examiner's office and tells Danny he's found a lead on their case.

* * *

Seven months, two weeks, and five days later, Max is whispering against the spike of Steve's collarbone, fingertips touching biceps covered in sleeves, hands trembling with nerves and making Steve's knees go weak. Max tells him he wants Steve to touch him, and as he counts the little dots of stubble that pattern Steve's jaw, he makes the commander choke on his own damn breath until he realizes Max isn't sure.

Steve wants to keep him locked up so no other can ever see the beauty of what he's witnessing--of soft brown eyes and flushed pink cheeks and lips that're forming 'commander'--so no one can dig deep beneath the surface like Steve did and find his gold and sarcophagus. He wants to sweep every centimeter of Max's brain like he's found an ancient ruin, wants to keep every finding he has afterward a secret so the History Channel won't abuse it every which way. He wants Max's rambling, lovely innocence, and he wants to fuck it all out of him until his skin is as bruised and marked as Steve's soul and the only thing Max can say is 'Steve'.

But Max's hands are still shaking and Steve's the one trapped in his web, and he kisses promises against Max's eyelids and tells him he isn't going to leave any time soon.

Scientists say it took what could be perceived as eternity for the universe to form, so Steve locks his fingers with Max's and realizes he'd be lucky to catch even a pinch of extra stardust when everything erupts.

* * *

When he hums his name into Max's neck and slides into him for the first time, it feels like coming home--like Steve belongs.

Max's fingers brush little rambles and gasps over his skin, raising hairs and hell and every bad thought and dream and realization Steve has ever had about himself. Steve pushes his hair out of his eyes and looks down at him, and when brown meets blue he doesn't know if he's ever felt more naked, with his body pressed tight and sweat dripping down the curve of his face and down to Max's heaving chest. Max shivers, moves with him in the most enticing, throbbing rhythm Steve's ever encountered, and when Steve cups a hand over his chest and feels the steady staccato of his heart, Max comes and gasps and clutches hard onto Steve's arms as his eyes light up like supernovas. Steve's lips find purchase on his neck and he feels the flutter of Max's pulse, and it is the quiet bass to the strumming guitars in his head, the foundation to cheesy love songs and talk about forever that Steve's only ever said without meaning.

He's never believed in God or a deity, but each fragment of their bodies that touch is a promise of a miracle, and each hushed whisper of his name leaving Max's lips in a quiet breath of a moan are the holy scriptures of Heaven. Steve's fingers clutch his hips, and the crescent shapes that Max leaves in his skin as he digs his nails into Steve's body are little promises of paradise.

Steve's always expected he'd go to Hell for everything he's done, but when Max kisses him soft and coaxes him to come, he thinks that maybe he could pretend Heaven is out there waiting for him, because this must be what finding it feels like.

* * *

Steve likes to lie beside Max and watch him shiver, his head beside him and pajamas with the Enterprise logo on them one size too big. Max is animated even when he's supposed to be sleeping, one hand threaded with Steve's, the other gesturing continuously as he talks about lucid dreaming and the logic of Inception and how badly he wants to try it out for himself. Steve doesn't know much about what Inception is, but as he presses a kiss to Max's temple he tells himself he at least knows the chaos of Max's hair in the light of early morning and the brush of ebony on flushed cheeks as his eyelashes touch them, and that is what matters.

In these moments, Steve thinks he's selfish; he wants to keep Max away from anyone who could taint him, who could take away his universe, who could make Max forget (even for a split-second, even for one afternoon in a bank shooting) that Steve's the only one who will ever love him like this. He's the only one who's seen all Max's beauty, just like Max is the only one who's seen all of Steve's pain and decided to try and fix him instead of run away. He's the only one Max has opened up to like this. He's the only one Max has trusted. But then Max's voice is dying out after a whispered 'totem', and he glances up at Steve and blinks before squeezing his pianist fingers and meeting his eyes completely.

And Steve feels guilty, because he doesn't deserve him. Because the whole world needs to see how beautiful he is, even if the thought of it makes him angry; even though Steve was the first to realize Max is a universe full of stars and planets and constellations. Even if Steve is a lost soldier trapped in wars, searching for the starlight home, and no beacon has been clearer than Max has.

He's so beautiful, so naive, so oblivious, when he tells Steve that perhaps sleep would do well to remove the worried expression on his face. His attempt to laugh turns into a nervous smile instead. And Steve kisses him because he knows he can't keep him secret forever, and maybe it'd mean more if Max chose to stay on his own.

* * *

Steve has kissed Max so many times now that he's lost count, but as he pulls away, he realizes: he's beautiful. Max is so beautiful.

And as Max smiles up at him, trusting and open and real, Steve thinks that maybe he's beautiful, too, because every universe needs a star to keep them whole, and every doctor needs a patient to help get better.

With Max's fingers tangled with Steve's and their hearts a more powerful metronome than the one above Max's office piano, Steve tells himself that with Max, he could be beautiful instead of broken, too. Even if one day it'll all be a lie.


End file.
